


Thirty Little Things

by Sawnee



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 'nuff said i think, 30 Day OTP Challenge, Comfort, Fluff, M/M, tags to be added in the construction of the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sawnee/pseuds/Sawnee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 day OTP Challenge. One ficlet/day of the challenge, set in the same universe. Post CATWS, AU where everything isn't going to burn down to ashes in the next movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn't been beta read and it's super short because I'm a little shit.  
> So here's a Stucky 30 day otp Challege, it's going to be mostly fluff but with a bit of the canon typical violence and mental issues but it'll be very very light and everything is vanilla I just have no idea of how to say this in the tags...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is sort-of gardening and then hand holding.

Bucky likes to hold Steve by his clothes. The tail of his jacket, the hem of his shirt, the belt loop of his pants. It’s sort of a habit he kept from _before_. When he had to make sure little Steve wouldn’t get into another fist-fight Bucky would have had to win for him. Steve was smaller than him, then, and James would slide his arm around his friend’s shoulders or clasp a hand on his neck. He’d also started growing muscles pretty soon because they ended up more often than reasonable being two (one and a half, really) scrawny teenagers against five butch-ass drunkheads and went back home covered in bruises every single time they went out.

Nowadays, of course, it’s not about protecting Steve anymore, and has more to do with protecting assholes from Steve. The guy may not be on Thor’s level, but you don’t usually come back for seconds after a flick signed Captain America. Though the kid’s way more of a pacifist now that a glare or a swell of his muscles is enough to reduce anyone whose opinion is unwanted to silence.

He also just really likes to hold on to Steve. Fight him, who wouldn’t. Because nowadays, it’s also a lot about Bucky. It keeps him grounded. Being at arm-lenght of the only person he really trusts (even himself, but don’t tell Steve or he’ll get worried) really helps him in his recovery.

Anyway.

Here’s the problem.

They’re sitting on the bench of Steve’s floor’s balcony in the Stark tower, that Steve has spent all day redecorating. Flowers, a tree in a barrel, chairs, a sunshade, the bench. The day has been pretty hot (damn scorching, yeah. Bucky had been making fun of Steve from the air-conditionned insides of the tower) so Steve’s literally only wearing his underwear. He has even knocked aside the appalling pair of crocks he’d been wearing earlier -they’re pink, and they were a gift from Barton.

But.

There is a hand between them. Steve's hand. Steve's left hand.

Slowly, trying to ignore his wildly pounding heart, Bucky takes his own hand off of his lap and hovers it over Steve's. When his guts finally untwist themselves, he lowers his hand on Steve's. The fucker giggles. Bucky snaps his head up and scowls at Steve, but his friend is beaming at him, radiating fondness and delight.

Steve entertwines his fingers to Bucky's and squeezes his hand.

They watch the sunset on the city beneath them, and Bucky can see that Steve is smiling, from the corner of his eye. He smiles too.

He's not sure of what just happened but he's glad it did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure there aren't balconies or patios in the Stark tower but I don't really care so there are now (◕‿◕✿)  
> (maybe some sort of lanai patio?... I don't know. I wanted to write a balcony and I wanted them in the Stark tower. I have no idea of what I'm doing.)


	2. Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which night terrors happen, and then cuddling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how the anarchists have a motto that says "no God, no Master" yeah well my motto is "no Beta, no Skills"

When Natasha enters the elevator leading to the personal floors at 5:30, she doesn't expect to meet anyone but the Tower's staff. Not that the Avengers or the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents or about anyone in this tower aren't early risers -or deep, deep night owls- but rather because at 5.30 on a Sunday with no major crisis in the country, well, patriotism or not, most of them are asleep. Except for her but she never really had the opportunity to be like most people. For starters, she's either one of those who starts the planetary major crisis or those who prevents them way before anyone's even aware it could become one.

All of this to say that when she gets in the elevator at the 5th floor, she's surprised to find Sam in there. She takes in his sweatpants and sweatsoaked tee and is reminded that some people like to run at five in the fucking morning. Weirdos. And that comes from a highly trained spyssassin. Sam greets her with a wide smile, she greets him with an elbow in the ribs. 

"Nice to see you too ma'am!" Sam says cheerfully. "Rough night behind us?"

Natasha finally smiles. She likes Wilson a great deal. He seems completely oblivious to the fact that she could kill him blindfolded and her hands tied behind her back. "Seems" of course,  since they've fought together.

"Make that a rough hundred of hours but yep."

Sam cocks his head and lets out a whistle while she selects Barton's floor's number.  According to the panel board, Wilson is on his way to Steve's.

"How are you even standing up? Is that an over trained spy thing?"

She lets out a little laugh.  Good questions. He huffs and leans against the wall of the elevator.

"Once I'm done with Cap' I'm going to make sure to get you tucked up in the closest bed."

She laughs a bit more at that. Clint is probably going to say that too.

"You're going to wake up the elders? What do you need him for?"  
"I had to run alone today. At first I wanted to tell him off but then i figured I'd check on him. Them."

Natasha nods, lips tight in not-quite-a-smile. Since Barnes has moved in, things have gotten better and worse. Steve looks like he finally has a purpose and Barnes a crutch. But both of them have dark circles around their eyes. Sleep isn't easy for them. Life isn't easy for them. In the first few weeks that Barnes had spent in the tower, the mornings had systematically started with screams and a disoriented Barnes trashing around in the guests' floor. Then Steve made him live with him. It has gotten way better since then.   

The elevator stops and Sam gets out.

"Won't be long, stay around in case there's an issue."

Natasha reminds him JARVIS is everywhere so if issue there was reported it would be. He makes a face and a 'whatever' gesture. She blocks the door from closing with her foot.

He's back less than 2 minutes later, phone in hand and what is scaringly close to a heavy blush. He seems unable to stop smiling.

"What the hell, Wilson."

She snatches his phone from his hands and does a double take to the picture Sam has just taken.

"Man, that's..."

"The cutest thing that has ever happened in this tower. And I'm counting the time where you and Thor took turns in breading each other's hair."

She shoves him in the ribs again and then sends herself the pic. She's pleased to notice that Sam has apparently saved her number as "fave lethal redhead".

*

Steve wakes up way later, when a ray of sunlight makes its way through the curtains and straight into his right eye. He wants to shift but there's someone gripping him tightly with his whole body. He'd wake him up if he moved. He frees his left hand and gently caresses Bucky's hair. He smiles. They're laying on the stupidly big couch Stark had gotten him when it had turned out that everyone liked to crash in his common room, Bucky sprawled on top of him.

They hadn't started the night this way. Bucky had been on the couch, trying to get some rest. Steve had been in his room, in a light doze. Then the screaming had started. It was muffled, like someone yelling into a pillow, like Steve knew Bucky did. Steve had barged out of his room and into the open living room as calmly as he could -which wasn't very calm- and went to sit by Bucky's shivering form on the couch. He was in a tight foetal position, his face crushed into a pillow as he sobbed and screamed.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder and talked gently, without urge, saying he was here, and that James was safe, and that everything was going to be okay. He talked until Bucky stopped being tense, talked until his breath evened out and he completely relaxed. He talked, and Bucky turned towards him in his sleep, spread an arm around Steve's chest and hugged him tight.

Soon, Steve had found himself with an armful of peacefully sleeping James Buchanan Barnes -not that he minded. Or, to be precise, that he minded in a negative way.

Okay, he's absolutely delighted, verging on ecstatic. He still wonders about how much he's lost but how, as long as he's got James, it doesn't matter that much. He had almost forgotten how the warm and bubbly feeling that is filling his chest had once felt. The sun is completely set now, shiny and hot above the buzzing city. Bucky's starting to stir on top of him -it's an ideal morning, really. As Bucky blinks himself to awareness, Steve is overwhelmed by a sudden wave of affection, rolling warm from his belly and crashing white-hot in his chest.

"Hey," he says to his friend.  
"...Hey, Stevie..." answers this very guy, a lazy grin slowly splitting his face in two, arms tightening around Steve's chest.

Steve feels like he's just been hit by a train. But in a good way.

*

Later that day, Clint bullies Sam into printing the pic he'd taken of the two super-soldiers cuddling. Natasha frames it and they give it to Barnes and Rogers.

*

Even later that day, Steve and Bucky have moved Bucky's stuff in Steve's (their) room. The photograph is hanging on the wall above their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to Natasha Romanov, who I methodically butchered in the first part of this thing.
> 
> When someone has a nightmare or a night terror, it's better for them if you manage to calm them down without waking them up. Depending to the person it's also better not to touch them (like, you know, a trained assassin with a cybernetic arm who's been repeatedly brainwashed and sent on missions like a killing machine for the past seventy years, no biggie)


End file.
